Playing With Fire
by cookiedoughmunchkin
Summary: Victor Von Doom is back, but is too weak. Changing his plans, he sends his most deadliest assassin to go after the Fantastic Four. And her first target is Johnny Storm. PLZ REVIEW, FIRST FIC HERE!
1. Rayne Thompson

**Hope you guys will like this new story. It's my first for F4 section, and I'm hoping that it'll go pretty well. I'm not sure if I'm good with this story, so if I don't get AT LEAST 2 reviews, I'll delete this. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! ;)**

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The air was freezing cold, as she clutched her wool shawl protectively around her for warmth. Icicles hung eerily down from old pipes and the ceiling where water once dripped, showing the obvious signs of winter. Puffs of air released from her mouth as she breathed, her hands shaking coldly. The nasty scent of mint was hanging in the air, proving to everybody the old toothpaste factory never lost it's scent, even after all the years that its been shut down. 

"Hello? Is anybody here?" her voice called out.

It was weak, and it kept on echoing throughout the factory. The young woman clutched the sharp dagger in her hands, in fear on who would have called her. A gun was hanging from her belt, and a pocketknife was as well.

She waited, the sweat and anticipation increasing in her gut. Despite her reputation as being _'the best in the biz',_ her fears were pretty evident and clear.

"Yes?"

She turned around, her eyes searching everywhere for the voice.

A man lying on boxes was there, the shadows nearly covering him completely. She gave a small yelp of surprise, pulling out the dagger from her shawl.

"Put that down, girl! I'm too weak to even attack you." the man growled.

She stared at him, noticing that it was true. His clothes were completely torn, his hair messy and eyes looking tired. Blood and wounds were evident on his skin. The only warmth he held for himself was a tattered blanket worn with holes. She almost felt pity for him.

_Almost._

She slowly placed the dagger away, but hid it behind the cloth of her shawl just in case.

"Are you Rayne Thompson?" he asked gruffly.

She nodded her head in response.

"Are you Victor Von Doom?" she asked in return, the grip on her dagger tightening.

He nodded his gruff head, a twinkle in his eye oddly showing in the dim light. She noticed this, and fear was starting to build up. The twinkle showed danger, despite his weak appearance.

Who knows? He could be the world's most dangerous criminal on the loose! Or this could all be an act! But her spunky and tough attitude took her stand, and she kept her guard on keeping calm and cool.

"Yes, sir? What have you called me for?" she asked politely, masking the fear and confusion in her voice.

This was what her _'school'_ and _'teachers'_ taught her to do whenever she met suspicious people like this man. _Stay cool._

A wicked smile crept up onto his lips, and this made her shudder. "I've called to assign you a job," he replied simply.

She raised her eyebrows, expecting him to want more.

"Who's the target?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Victor smiled, digging into his pockets. He pulled out a small, pocket-sized wrinkled picture, and handed it to Rayne.

She stared at it, confused.

"Four people? But si-?"

"No, not all of them," he interrupted, getting impatient. "I want you to take down one by one."

She nodded her head in new understanding, focusing her attention back to the picture.

"You're first is this one," Victor pointed towards a young man with a flicker of fire balancing on his finger. His eyes were crazy, and his smile was none other than goofy. Rayne raised her eyebrows, wondering if Mr. Doom had gone mad.

"Sir, no offense, but I'm a professional assassin, not a circus clown to entertain kids in birthday parties!" she pointed out, stifling a laugh.

Victor scolded her, which shut her mouth up immediately.

"Yes, he may seem rather foolish and stupid, but I KNOW what I'm talking about. My lesson that I learned before was not to take the top of the turf, otherwise known as _'the leader'_. Take the lowest of the low, and that will weaken the palace of cards." Victor answered, sounding professional.

This comment impressed Rayne immensely, and she nodded her head in obedience.

"Sir, may I ask whoever this foolish fire clown is?"

"Yes, you may. This person is otherwise known as _'The Human Torch'_, Mr. Johnny Storm. One-fourth of the Fantastic Four."

Rayne nodded, the puzzle pieces starting to click together. She knew she heard of this group, and their amazing powers. She clearly reminisced the time when she was at her kitchen, practicing her daily kung fu session, when she saw on TV the news of a highway disaster involving a fire truck. A so-called _'Fantastic Four'_ was on the scene immediately, and cleared everything up.

"You may have heard of them, since they have been on the news plenty of times." Victor added, pocketing the picture in his tattered pants pocket.

She nodded her head, getting up from her uncomfortable seat on the floor. She brushed away the dirt and dust from her skirt, skidding her fur boots onto the floor to remove excessive mud.

"Here's my number, so we can keep on contact. I'll call you tomorrow on more of you're assignment." He handed her a piece of newspaper with some black-inked messy numbers written over the advertisement.

She took it gradually, tucking it into her skirt pocket. As she walked off towards the exit of the old toothpaste factory, she called out,

"Sir, how will I meet the Fantastic Four?"

"I don't know. Be creative, and figure out a way until Saturday!"

She sighed, clutching onto her shawl as she pushed open the creaky exit door. She entered once again into the snowy white world of New York, shivering.

_Fantastic Four, eh? He DID say 'be creative'! At least I get paid prettygood for the organization. Well, this got to be pretty interesting…………_

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**Did you like it? Well, express it into a review! ;)**


	2. Chocolate Chip Mystery

**Hey there guys, hope all of you are enjoying the read so far! The reviews are really awesome, and they're the only ones and you readers that keep me going with this story! (I'm not going to say anymore, 'no story if there are not at least 3 reviews' or whatever, since I pretty much know I shouldn't be judging this like that! But remember, the faster the reviews come flying in, the faster I review!) Sorry if I hadn't in awhile! ;)**

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Blowing dry leafs scatter in the wind, scattering them individually into different places. Who knows where they could be in one week. Maybe even in Canada, if you follow it and count the time that passes by. Nobody will actually do that, mind you, for they have better things to do than follow a dead leaf around the world, or at least until it gets squashed and runned over by a tow truck, but that's beyond my point.

But if you listened to what I was saying, you will pretty much understand that nobody cares about a brown leaf, unless you have already known that as a fact.

Following this one particular leaf, however, is one thing that is shockingly more interesting and intense that anyone will gawk in confusion and fear.

And on and on the brown, flat thing flew, swirling and spinning along to the movements of the wind.

Sprinkles of snow showered down, nearly battering the poor leaf down to pieces, but miraculously, it survived. The leaf continued on its long journey, and soon flew into an open window of a sagging shack.

The so-called 'house' was ugly and made of rotten cardboard, smelly from the dampness it has been soaking up like a sponge from the rain and snow so far.

Trash and newspapers were piled upon the walls on the outside, making the appearance of the place even more impossible to imagine.

A dungy hobo wouldn't even want to live in this place, and would much preferably choose a soggy cardboard box instead. Nobody would live there, that's what everyone would be surely to think.

Surprisingly though, somebody actually is.

If you edge closer to the window, you could hear two voices inside the cardboard shack.

One voice, sly and clever. The other, grumpy and anxious. T

he leaf that we had almost forgotten a moment ago rushes through the window, twirls farther into the small room, and flutters lightly on top of a Nike sneaker of one of the two person's shoes.

"Are you sure of this?"

"Of course I am! I've been using this device ever since my first mission!"

A gruff man with a growing beard raised his eyebrows, his tattered and ripped clothes barely holding on.

This man, you must guess, was Victor Von Doom. He was really unsure of the confidence and knowledge that this young woman next to himwas harboring at the moment.

_After all_, he thought, _she is rather sarcastic and juvenile. How can I even trust her?_

A young woman who looked only 20 years of age rolled a small brown pebble in her small, bony fingers thoughtfully. Her tangled, black hair was tied up in a messy bun, her gray eyes shining much more confidence in them than any other normal woman her own age would usually hold, which was beyond her living years. Rayne Thompson was this woman, and she's mainly somebody who you wouldn't want to mess with.

"This is called a MCCRT," she said loudly.

Victor nodded his head. "What does 'MCCRT' stand for?"

"Mini Computer Chocolate Chip Transmitter."

Mr. Doom raised his eyebrows, staring imploringly at Rayne.

She shrugged her head, replying, "I'm not the one who named it, just to let you know."

She scuffed the toe of her sneaker against the wet, muddy floor, squashing the brown-leafed friend that we were talking about a moment ago.

She dug into her sky blue duffel bag, taking out a moment later an Ipod-looking device.

Victor looked at the object, raising his eyebrows at her.

She soon clicked a blue button that was on the side, and the _'Ipod'_ instantly switched on.

The screen though, however, was not filled with the usual downloaded songs, but instead had a large map of the entire city. It included pinpoints of places, and had an odd-looking red dot that kept slowly crawling constantly along the screen.

She rubbed the so-called 'Ipod's' screen lightly against her sweater, cleaning it off from water and dust.

"Err- what in the world is that?" he questioned, worry lacing into his spoken words.

Rayne grinned maliciously, handing the small device to Victor.

He took it reluctantly, still worrying.

"It's a tracking device. Simple-looking, and it helps it from getting caught from the tight security in the airports nowadays," she took it back into her hands, cradling it with care. "it's called an 'Ipod', obviously. It receives satellite surges from outer space, and it can take pictures and maps wherever in the world, even somewhere on the ocean or a deserted island."

She rubbed her thumb against the screen, her eyes following the moving red dot.

"This also can track down unusually heated or energized objects, and can pick up weather storms or a natural disaster of any kind. This red dot that's moving," she pointed towards the screen, "is Johnny Storm. Since he has these fire powers you say of, its pretty easy to track him down on my Ipod."

Victor nodded his head eagerly, feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins in an accelerating rate.

"Perfect," he muttered, mist blowing out of his mouth from the freezing weather.

Rayne picked up her backpack from the ground, and Victor soon noticed a large soccer ball sticker was stitched into the front, and a small red stain was printed against it.

Curiosity filled his gut at the moment.

"Sooo…………you love soccer I guess? What's with the red stain?"

Rayne grinned, running her fingers lightly across the stitched- in fabric.

"Kicked a guy in the jaw with a soccer ball, and got sent to a mental ward for it, after he had to go to the hospital. I guess I just wanted to leave a memory on it………."

Victor backed away, panic shining in his weary eyes.

Rayne looked at him for a moment, bursting out in laughter. Tears nearly shone from her eyes at her outburst.

"I'm joking! It's a ketchup stain!" she laughed. Victor relaxed, sighing in relief.

But a question inside him was still poking to bud out.

"So……..you really do seem like a normal person... but how did you end up becoming a worker for the _'Assassination'_ business?" he questioned.

But just like magic, Rayne's happiness in her eyes vanished in a flash; her eyes no longer were shining, but held the normal dullness Victor had seen before.

Her face grew tense, the lines on her face creasing in.

She simply slung her backpack over her shoulder, jumping out the open window.

"I'm going now." she replied, quietly.

Victor watched her trudge through the snow, her small feet falling in deep and leaving hole marks. Her back was still tense as he continued watching her.

She soon disappeared through the blankets of snow showering down from the gray sky, and he sighed.

He rubbed his face in confusion, wondering so many things about this woman at the same time.

"Why does she have to be so mysterious? There's so many things about her that make my head spin in wonder!" he looked out the window, staring upon her left behind footprints.

"Let her be that way. Her past is a mystery. A painting I'm willing to find out."

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**Lol guys how'd y'all like it? Mysterious, I hope y'all think! Well, PLZ REVIEW!**

**_Love lots, rei ann ;)_**


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